


Saccharine

by Anonymous



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:05:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27380134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Hels wakes up in a place that he does not recognize.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38
Collections: Anonymous





	Saccharine

Hels awoke to the sound of fire. It was not the dry rumble of an eternal nether flame or a wisp of azure heat. It was the crackle of something not quite like fungus stems- wood, as the overworlders called it. A man was softly humming somewhere to his side, the sound so peaceful that he considered falling asleep again. His body was surrounded by something unfamiliar, yet soft and soothing, even if it reminded him of sinking into the underbelly of a hoglin. What got him to open his eyes was a scent that tickled his nostrils. It was impossibly sweet and seemed to fill him with vigor with its mere presence.

The first thing he saw was a slim man with birch colored hair that draped over his shoulders. He was holding a transparent bottle scarcely larger than a piglin's tusk, slowly swirling the fuscia liquid inside. The man seemed to notice Hels' eyes peer at him. He turned until the knave could see the entirety of his face. His sky hued eyes seemed to glimmer in the fire light, lips pressed into a thin smile, tired yet good natured.

"Sleeping beauty's awake", the man mused. He sounded so familiar, yet oddly foreign. He held the neck of the bottle below Hels' nose. The unburdened hand gently slipped to the back of the knave's head, tilting him up the tiniest it. The bottle tilted with him and before Hels could question him the fluid was being poured over his tongue. A saccharine flavor washed over his insides. It gradually filled his mouth little by little until he swallowed. The liquid seemed to warm him as it settled inside of him. He was almost disappointed when the last droplets of the substance were drained from the bottle.

With his mouth unoccupied Hels gazed upwards at the man, almost certain that he was an overworlder. The man brushed his index finger across the knave's lower lip, catching a stray trickle of healing nectar from his face.

It felt strange. Hels had never met this person before, yet he cared for him as if he were an ally. He sat up until he was eye level with the person.

"Wh...". He was surprised by how gravelly his voice had become. "Who are you?". That got the man to laugh. The sound was light and dry, like bread fresh from the oven.

"Seems your brain fried out there in the desert. Or has it really been that long?". Hels frowned. So he had met this person before, yet could not remember any part of their encounter. That did not ease his mind at all.

"I'm Wels", he said simply. "I was gathering some sand for a project and you happened to land in my path. Scared the lights out of me, yet here we are". He lifted his weight off of the bed, the hay stuffed mattress shifting in his absence. He turned towards a desk cluttered with an incomprehensible amount of items and discarded the bottle somewhere among the pile. He conjured a bowl of stew from its depths, most likely mushroom based off of the smell. He stepped back towards the prostrate knave and laid the dish on a table beside him before heading towards a door a few blocks away.

"Feel free to sip on that whenever you're ready. I'll be in the garden if you need me". The door gently creaked open before dropping shut, leaving the knave alone with his thoughts and the unprecedented hospitality.

It still felt strange. Hels struggled to figure out what Wels could possibly gain from caring for him, yet found no possibilities. It was as if he was sated purely with the knowledge that Hels would be able to get back on his feet.

But that could not be possible. That would be such a foolish thing to do.

Hels stared at the soup presented before him for several minutes as if he were expecting it to lunge at him. He finally took it into his hands and put it to his lips.

He decided that Wels must be a strange person. Or just very foolish.


End file.
